


Magic, Politics, Alchemy and Other Similar Things

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blind Roy Mustang, Ed keeps his automail and alchemy, Fuhrer Roy Mustang, Kind of a superhero au eventually, Multi, Probably some other pairings later but Royed is the main one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23339074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Haha I can’t write summaries but this is basically just a Harry Potter/FMAB fic with a lot of shameless clichès. Set two years after brotherhood/OotP. Also rated T because Ed curses A LOT
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 13
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bold Text= Me  
> “Italics”= Amestrian  
> “Normal”= English  
> K so this is technically set 2 years after Brotherhood. And OotP I don’t care that they’re supposed to be seventy years apart. Alphonse got his body back Father and the homunculi were defeated etc. The two major changes are that A) Mustang never got his sight back and B) Edward still has his automail/alchemy and is still in the military. Feel free to use your imagination. Might write a prologue later. Also Royed. I can’t resist, I'm sorry. Also Greed won’t really have an important role but he didn’t die because I said so. Also this is literally my first (and probably only) time writing fanfiction lol but I’ve got tons of ideas for this (Still would love recommendations) and all feedback helps cause again, I’ve never done this before!

Edward swore under his breath as he violently shook his pen, trying to get the last few drops of ink out. No way was he going all the way back from the cafeteria to General Bastard’s office for another one.  
It took several minutes- much longer than the time it would’ve taken to find a new pen, for him to finally manage to scrape out the last sentence of his letter to Alphonse with the completely dry writing utensil. Ed had tried to write to his little brother every day since he’d left for Xing. He’d usually also write notes on the back for May, Lanfan and his supreme excellency Emperor Ling or Greed or whoever, but his military duties just took up most of his free time these days. Especially after being promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. Especially after fuhrer Older-Than-Hohenheim’s-Beard Grumman decided to have a major stroke only two years into his presidency and give Amestris less than a year to elect his successor. So Edward was effectively a state alchemist, a researcher, and General Bastard’s campaign manager. This would be his first letter all week and half of it was engraved inklessly into the paper and-  
 _“Hey Boss!”_  
The new voice startled Ed out of his guilt spiral. He looked up and was greeted by a familiar blonde cigarette smoking Lieutenant.  
 _“Havoc? Please don’t tell me the General sent you.”_  
 _“Don’t shoot the messenger?”_ Havoc offered. Ed let out one of his signature dramatic sighs.  
 _“What does he want now?! I JUST finished with those boring ass diplomats.”_  
 _“Didn’t say, Boss. He just said to come get you.”_  
 _“There better be a damn good reason. I’m fucking hungry, Lieutenent.”_ Edward looked at his uneaten sandwich mournfully. Havoc grinned.  
 _“Bring it with you, Boss. Mustang’s already pissed about your report from this morning. Or ya know, lack thereof._ ” He paused and then smiled _.“and please try to keep the making out to a minimum this time, Ed. Me and Breda are both still traumatized from yesterday.”_ Ed gave Havoc a glare that would send most men- or chimeras or homunculi for that matter- running for the hills. Havoc simply laughed.  
Edward settled on walking as slowly as possible, playing absentmindedly with his long golden ponytail, dragging his boots, shifting in his itchy ass uniform, and savoring his gross military issued sandwich. When he finally got to the door of the Bastard’s office, he backed up a few steps and used his momentum to nearly kick the door off its hinges with his automail leg.  
 _“Watch the furniture, Edward,”_ Mustang was sitting in that stupid office chair, facing the window, his long white cane propped up agianst one of the armrests.  
 _“Can it, Roy,”_ he retorted. _“I’m here aren’t I? That’s more than you should expect from me in the middle of fucking lunch.”_  
 _“Insubordination.”_ Mustang finally spun around to face him, throwing one leg casually over the other and directing his dark brown eyes, void of any recognition, at a point a few inches to the left of Ed’s nose. Bastard always aimed too low. Ed should’ve been mad, but he didn’t say anything, instead mentally patting himself on the back for being so goddamn considerate.  
“ _Whatever,_ ” Edward said, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible so he could go back to his apartment on the outskirts of Central City and relax the rest of the day. _“What do you want?”_  
Mustang sighed, and Edward knew he wouldn’t like what the Bastard was going to say next.  
 _“Have I told you recently how pretty your hair is?”_  
 _“Like you would know. Spit it out, Mustang_ ,” Ed growled. Roy’s expression changed to one of mock offense for a second before he continued.  
“ _I’m afraid that in his temporary fuhrership, Lieutenant General Hakuro has issued you and I a 9 month long mission to another country.”_  
 _“You’re kidding.”_  
 _“No, Edward, I’m not. I don’t like it either but-”_  
 _“Don’t you get what this is?!,”_ Ed fumed. _“The election’s in May! He’s trying to tank your chances so he can win, that fucking shithole!”_  
 _“Of course I know that, Edward, but my hands are tied. It’s an order from a superior officer no matter how manipulative it may be.”_  
Last year, Edward would have outright refused the mission. But now...he probably wouldn’t see Al in the next nine months anyways as much as it hurt him to think about. And Mustang, as independent as he was for a blind guy, was probably not completely equipped to go nine months in a foreign country by himself. He supposed Hawkeye or one of Roy’s other men could go, but none of them were alchemists. And besides, he would be really really fucking pissed if Mustang had to leave without him just a year into their relationship.  
“ _Okay_ ,” Edward relented. Roy raised his eyebrows in surprise. Damn he was cute when he did that. Ed made an attempt to hide the extremely embarrassing blush, remembered that Roy couldn’t see it anyway, then took a deep breath. _“When do we leave where are we going what are we doing once we-”_  
“ _Slow down, Ed._ ” Mustang smirked, halfheartedly brushing some of his soft, black hair away from his ears and lacing his long, perfect fingers and- no. Goddamnit Edward, listen. _“We’ll be going to a country called Scotland, to the Northwest. We leave today, and I understand that the rest will be explained by a man who should be here any minute.”_ Roy frowned slightly. _“It’s probably best that we don’t say anything about the automail. Hakuro says they don’t have it there. Or the presidential campaign. Also our... ah, not entirely professional relationship-”_  
Crack  
Edward jumped, hitting himself in the face with his automail arm which he’d raised in an unsuccessful attempt to shield himself. Roy merely grinned. Hearing the commotion, he probably had a pretty good idea of what Ed had just done.  
 _“That’ll be him,”_ Mustang said with a barely repressed smirk. Edward was still trying to comprehend what he’d just witnessed. This strange white-bearded man had just appeared in the middle of the office, previously only occupied by Mustang and Edward, out of thin air. Not to mention what he was wearing- Truth, what was that crap? Purple ass robes? And a matching pointed hat? Even Edward’s fashion sense was better developed.  
“Good afternoon, Gentlemen. You are Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric and Major General Roy Mustang, correct?” It took Edward a moment to realize that the man was speaking English- which he had studied in school just like almost all Amestrians were required to, but he’d never been quite fluent like he was in Xingese. Damn. He hated when he wasn’t good at stuff.  
“Yes, sir,” Mustang supplied after it became apparent that Ed wasn’t going to say anything. He held out his hand before the other man had a chance, sparing himself a lot of unnecessary reaching and fumbling. They shook.  
“Call me Albus Dumbledore” The newcomer offered his right hand to Edward, who immediately raised his left, which was as awkward as always, but he introduced himself to what he had since determined to be an old nutter anyways.  
“Now if you two don’t mind, I’d like to get right to the point.” Dumbledore took on a more serious expression that seemed to grant his features a little more sanity. Edward and Mustang both nodded, Ed pinching himself in order to stay quiet and professional. Damn. Two shows of considerate-ness in one day. He figured he’d earned at least a 10 minute makeout session once he and the Bastard were alone again.  
“I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and-”  
Roy opened his mouth to say something, now frowning deeply but Edward beat him to it.  
“Umm hold zhe fuck up, Gramps, vhat zhe hell do you mean by ‘vichcraft’ and ‘vizardry’?”  
Dumbledore ignored both Ed’s insult and his language.  
“Hogwarts is a school for witches and wizards, Lieutenant Colonel.”  
It took Albus Dumbledore a full four and a half hours of demonstration to give up on convincing Edward and Roy of the existence of magic, and another hour and a half to explain to them the current state of affairs in his world. He had always known that magic was a highly guarded secret in the muggle military-run country of Amestris, but not to this extent.  
“Okay,” Edward started slowly after a long moment of silence. “So you English people have a form of alchemy zhat you call…” He choked on the next word. “Magic. And you vant me and zhe Ba- I mean zhe General to teach Amestrian alchemy at your school and protect some kid from a noseless psycho killer? And I have to speak English zhe whole time?” And he would have to act civilized all year because Amestris desperately needed to improve its international relations. Ed decided against saying that last part out loud. Dumbledore looked amused.  
“Yes, Edward. I see you’re very perceptive. However, only General Mustang will be teaching alchemy. In fact, I think it might be best for you to try to avoid using your alchemy for the time being. I need you to keep a closer eye on Mr. Potter, so I will be placing you in his 5th year Gryffindor class.”  
“You said Harry vas fifteen.” Ed really hoped this wasn’t going where he thought it was going.  
“Yes I did.”  
“who zhe FUCK ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE CAN BLEND IN WITH ZHE FIFTEEN YEAR OLD KIDS?! I’M EIGHTEEN. GOT THAT? EIGHTEEN. NOT TWELVE. NOT FIFTEEN-”  
“Ed,” Roy finally spoke, staying in English out of respect for the old man. Probably also to show off how good he was at it. “Right now, it doesn’t matter. We have a little less than forty-eight hours until the school year starts. I suggest we begin packing. Oh, and I’m still expecting that report from you, Fullmetal.” Ed had really hoped Mustang would’ve forgotten about that by now, but apparently the discovery of magic did not deter General Bastard from his unhealthy obsession with paperwork.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Edward was lost. He stood in the middle of a bustling cobblestone street with nothing but his suitcase and a list of school supplies in his hand. Looking closer, he noticed that everyone occupying the alley had a fashion sense very similar to Dumbledore’s. Just perfect. Ed, dressed by Mustang with a golden ponytail that reached his mid back, a long brown jacket, a white button down collared shirt, white gloves, black suspenders, black pants and black shoes was the one that looked like an outsider here. Whatever. He was used to it by now. He just couldn’t believe that Dumbledore would take Mustang to Hogwarts and just quite literally disappear, and leave him here by himself.   
Ed looked down at the list. His English was a little rusty, and there were some words he didn’t recognize, but he could at least do the shopping part by himself right?

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
Uniform  
Fifth-year students will require:  
1.Three sets of plain work robes (black with house emblem and colors)  
2\. One pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black with house emblem and colors, silver fastening)  
Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry nametags  
Course Books   
All students should have a copy of the following:  
Standard Book of Spells (Grade 5)  
Magical Drafts and Potions  
Dark Arts Defense: Basics for Beginners  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi  
History of Magic  
Intermediate Transfiguration  
Monster Book of Monsters  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them  
Unfogging the Future  
Ancient Runes Made Easy  
Rune Dictionary  
Homelife and Social Habits of British Muggles  
Note : Edward, I have left enough money for you to purchase textbooks for years 1-4 for review -Albus Dumbledore

Other Equipment  
1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass of crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales  
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

After a few hours, Edward had crossed nearly everything off of his list.. Ed spent most of that time in the bookshop trying to ration Dumbledore’s strange money in order to buy as many textbooks as possible. He’d even decided to submit himself to wearing the Gryffindor uniform when it was absolutely required. Professionalism and international relations and all that bullshit. He would not, however, be wearing ANY sort of pointed hat. If Roy or Winry or hell, even Al caught wind of it he’d never live that down.  
The only thing left was a wand. He’d been avoiding it. He knew for a fact that scientific explanations for the strange happenings of this country would be made much harder once he actually had a magic fucking wand. But he’d already gotten this far. Not like he was gonna be able to go back to Amestris without seeing and researching every aspect of this “magic” form of alchemy. This kind of advancement could probably help people back home. Didn’t mean he had to like it.  
Edward resisted the urge to kick down the rickety old door with a sign that read “Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C”. Instead, he stepped inside cautiously, but then instantly revealed himself when the dust covered shelves that covered at least 90% of the shop’s surface area and were stacked precariously at least ten feet tall, made him cough loudly. He jumped in surprise when an old man with white hair stuck out at all angles appeared from behind one of the shelves.  
“Good afternoon,” said the man, his voice surprisingly soft. “You are the young alchemist that Dumbledore spoke of?”  
“Uhh,” the woman at the bookstore had seemed deeply offended when Ed told her that he was an alchemist. Screw it. “Yeah. Eduard Elric.” He held out his left hand, but the wandmaker ignored him.  
“Mr. Ollivander,” he whispered, holding Ed’s eyes a little too long. “Now which is your wand arm?” Ed must’ve looked visibly confused because Ollivander added “your dominant arm.” Instinctively, Ed moved to hold out his right arm, cursed himself silently, then switched hoping that Ollivander hadn’t noticed. He had.  
“I said your dominant arm, Mr. Elric.”   
“I’m left-handed.” Ed just wanted to get this over with at this point. And it wasn’t a total lie. Sure he’d been right-handed until he’d lost his arm, but now he generally considered himself ambidextrous.  
“No you’re not. I must warn you, Mr. Elric, that this will not work unless we use your right arm.” God fucking damn it. Ed knew he had to come up with another excuse, but Ollivander grabbed his arm before he could form one. The wandmaker’s eyes went wider than Ed felt was natural for a human being.  
“Not. A. Vord. Of. Zhis. To. Anyvone.” The threat was unsaid but very clear.  
“No, of course not.” Ollivander slowly rolled up his sleeve, taking in the silver metal and Ed fought the urge to look away. He could feel his ears turning red. “Do you mind me asking how it happened?”  
“Yes I do, actually.” Edward glared at him.  
“Very interesting, indeed Mr. Elric. This could prove challenging.” Ollivander once again disappeared behind the endless shelves and Ed quickly pulled his sleeve down before realizing, outraged, that the wandmaker had taken his glove.   
“13 ½ inches. Cherrywood. Dragon heartstring core. Very flexible,” said Ollivander, breathless after three hours of failed testing. Ed was seriously beginning to doubt this whole magic thing. But, when he picked up the wand, it seemed to vibrate in his hand and he felt kind of...warm? Feeling stupid, he waved it a bit and a shower of bright red sparks came from the end. Even after breaking several wands open, Ed still wasn’t convinced that this one wasn’t hiding a philosopher’s stone.   
“AH HA” Ed snapped his head up. “It’s yours Mr. Elric! I knew it would be dragon heartstring for you, an audacious child, and very long because the amount of spiritual space you fill cancels out your lack of physical height, and flexible beca-!”  
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL ‘E CAN FIT INSIDE ZHE BONDS OF A VATER MOLECULE? VILL YOU LET ME LEAVE NOW?!” Edward was really starting to get sick of this wandmaker.   
“Very well Mr. Elric. Thirteen galleons, and you may be on your way.” Ed slammed the coins into the man’s hands.  
“Glove?” Ollivander winked and pulled the white glove out of his pocket, handing it back to Edward. He made a point of keeping his glare fixed on the wandmaker as he slipped it over the automail. As he marched out the door, Ollivander’s voice rang out once more.  
“I must warn you, Edward Elric, cherrywood wands are for users of strange magic.”   
Was he supposed to understand that?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Edward rubbed his eyes and tried to blink away the blurriness in his vision that came from pulling an all nighter last night internalizing four years worth of textbooks and learning to manipulate his glorified-alchemy-stick. He tightened his bun (which he’d decided went better with the weird school robes than a ponytail) and looked around. Despite all of England’s faults, amazing architecture was not something the country lacked. The archway Ed was standing in was made of panels of glass plastered with orange and yellow leaves that looked up to the bright September sky. Smaller arches outlined the brick walls that held a number of old-fashioned clocks that were common to Eastern Amestris. King’s Cross train station was really rather impressive, except for one small detail. Edward had been lugging his bags around the area between platforms eight and eleven for twenty minutes and yet, for the life of him, he couldn’t find the “Platform 9 ¾” that his ticket directed him to. Even the guy that worked here just gave him a weird look when he’d finally asked for help.   
Pressing his gloved hands to his temples, Edward took a deep breath and scanned the station for a hundredth time. Still no platform 9 ¾, but this time, Ed caught a glimpse of the same Hogwarts logo that was on all of his uniforms. It was emblazoned in gold on a large trunk which was set on the ground right next to a dark haired kid with circular glasses. Edward really didn’t want to approach him as he was immersed in conversation with what looked like a large black dog, a very flustered looking middle aged woman with bright orange hair and a baggy old lady, but he was really starting to get desperate.   
“Hey,” Ed started when he reached the group, donning his best ‘polite and apologetic face’. Al was better at stuff like this. “I’ve gotta get to a ‘platform 9 ¾’. It’s kinda urgent. You zhink you guys could help me?”  
The group glanced at each other, then looked him up and down. The redhead flushed and gave him the look his mom used to give him and Al when they were in trouble. Did they not know either? Ed was starting to think this whole mission was some sort of fever dream. The woman opened her mouth to say something, but the boy beat her.  
“C’mon Mrs. Weasley he’s just a kid.” Ed had to bite his tongue to stop the outburst. The boy turned to face him and just for a second, gold eyes and green eyes stared each other down. Ed raised an eyebrow and the boy finally continued. “It’s right through there.”  
“Zat,” Edward replied, tired of the past few days’ insanity, “is a vall.”  
“Yeah,” said the kid kind of awkwardly under the glare of the redhead, “you gotta walk through it. Or run if you’re nervous. Look, see? Nigel’s doing it right now.” Edward turned his head just in time to see a sandy-haired boy with several bags and- an owl?- run straight through the wall with a huge smile. Ed nodded. He understood what was happening now he’d seen the transmutation in action. He muttered a ‘thank you’ the boy who had already turned back to his companions. As Edward ran towards the wall, suitcases in tow, he imagined its composition, clapped his hands together as subtly as he could and the atoms of the barrier spread for just enough time to let Edward to pass through with his bags.  
The first thing Ed saw after the transmutation was a circular golden sign with big black text reading  
9 ¾. Fucking finally. Ed followed the flow of students to the bright red train, squeezing past hoards of emotional relatives. He definitely didn’t want to admit it, but seeing all those families sort of made him miss Al and Winry and all his friends back home. He’d write letters on the train, provided of course that this school had a mail delivery system. And he would, at last, get to see the Bastard today. Ed felt noticeably lighter once he set down his suitcases in the luggage area, and made his way onto the train. Just his luck, none of the compartments were empty, so he settled on the very last one, occupied only by a teenage girl with a wand poking out from behind her ear, partially veiled waist length blonde hair. She was reading a magazine which appeared to be upside down. Whatever. Ed had seen weirder things the last thirty-six hours. He slid in across from her as quietly as he could and the girl didn’t even glance up.  
About five minutes later, and halfway into his first letter (to Alphonse, obviously), the train still hadn’t moved, and someone knocked hesitantly on the glass of his compartment. He looked up to find another teenage girl; this one with straight red hair and a stern expression. She was followed by a round faced boy who looked about sixteen who was clutching an incredibly strange looking cactus, and the kid Ed immediately recognized as being the one who gave him directions earlier.   
“Hi guys,” said the girl standing at the doorway. “Is it okay if we take these seats?” The blonde girl across from Ed finally looked up, revealing a set of permanently wide eyes. She nodded, and Ed glanced up from his letter to gesture towards the empty seats. The three kids entered.   
“Had a good summer, Luna?” the redhead asked somewhat awkwardly. The blonde, who’s name was apparently Luna nodded again, and her eyes fixed on the boy from earlier who was now sitting next to Ed.  
“Yes it was quite enjoyable,” she said dreamily. “You’re Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. The boy next to Ed blushed a little.  
“I know I am,” he replied. So this was the kid Dumbledore wanted him to watch. Luna nodded, satisfied with his answer, and looked from Ed to the kid with the cactus.   
“I don’t know who either of you are,” she said.   
“I’m nobody,” mumbled the voice behind the cactus.   
“No you’re not,” snapped the redhead. “Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood. Luna’s in my year, but in Ravenclaw.”  
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure,” Luna recited. “And what’s your name?” All four students looked at Ed.  
“Eduard Elric. Ed,” he replied, stuffing his letter into an envelope and holding out his left hand.  
“Nice to meet you, Ed,” said the redhead. She paused for a second in confusion before shaking his hand. “I’m Ginny Weasley. This is Neville Longbottom,” she gestured to Cactus Kid, “Luna Lovegood, and Harry Potter.” She nodded to the kid next to him. Ed nodded. “I’m sorry,” continued Ginny, “I don’t recognize you. You’re not a first year are you?” Ed had been holding it in for too long.  
“WHO ZHE HELL ARE YOU CALLING SO FUCKING SMALL ‘E CAN SLIP THROUGH ZHE FABRIC OF TIME AND SPACE?! I’M 173 CENTIMETERS! NOT! SHORT!” Ed fumed, wishing he could transmute his arm into his signature sword right then and there.  
“I don’t think she said any of that, Ed,” said Luna calmly. The other three looked thoroughly taken aback. Ed huffed.  
“Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m an exchange student. From Germany. Fifth year.” He used the backstory that he and Roy had agreed upon. Truth, he couldn’t wait to find that asshole.  
The rest of the train ride went fairly smoothly. Edward managed to maintain his composure (mostly) until a kid Ron Weasley joined their compartment and decided it would be funny to start making short jokes. He also met a bushy haired girl named Hermione Granger who joined the conversation for a grand total of thirty seconds before disappearing into a newspaper, adding her comments at random intervals. She seemed to be the brains of the operation here. They were all naive to say the least, but Ed was secretly happy to hear that they would all be in his house.   
It was dark by the time the train stopped, and older students held large flaming torches on a path towards a long line of horse drawn carriages, which reminded him a lot of Risembool. Except, these weren’t quite horses. They were black- almost blending in with the night sky, and were a lot...bonier than they should be. Not to mention that they had wings. Ed smiled as he realized that these were not, in fact, chimeras as he’d first assumed. He recognized them from one of his textbooks- just some weird mammal exclusive to Europe. He noticed that Harry was staring as well. He and Ron Weasley seemed to argue a bit as they joined Ed and Luna in a carriage, but Edward wasn’t really paying attention. He’d just caught sight of the castle in the distance. Huge turrets, arches and bridges over the dark hills across the black lake which reflected millions of stars. It was like a scene from one of those fantasy books. Ed couldn’t help but feel a sense of childlike awe. He tugged at his right sleeve. Stupid ass robes kept getting caught in his automail.  
“It’s all right,” Luna was saying to a very pale Harry and a very confused Ron. “You’re not going mad or anything. I can see them too.” She was referring to the animals pulling the carriage.   
“You can?” asked Harry, relief clear in his voice. Ed smiled. For once, he knew something the others didn’t. He’d been getting really tired of being the clueless one.  
“Yeah,” he said. “Zhey’re called thestrals. I read about zhem in Fantastic Beasts and Vhere to Find Zhem.” He paused. “You can only see zhem if you’ve seen death.” A look of realization, then poorly disguised deep sadness passed Harry’s features.   
“Blimey, Ed,” said Ron, shaking his head. “You’re just like Hermione aren’t you?”


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ed sat next to Ron and across from Harry and Hermione at one of the quickly filling four tables that spanned the hugest room he’d ever seen. It was so huge in fact, that there were clouds forming in the ceiling against the midnight blue backdrop. What was weirder, candles seemed to hang in midair around the strange ceiling. Edward scooted to the right a little bit to avoid potential hot wax from spilling on him from the candle directly above him, while furiously trying to work out a scientific explanation. He’d have to do some more research. Not only about the candles, but about the talking hat (he was almost positive it was a soul bind) and those...things...that called themselves ‘ghosts’. Edward felt himself pale at his first sight of the things, his mind reeling. His whole body trembled. Whatever else was possible in this demented country, this shouldn’t be. The dead always stayed dead. That was a universal truth. **(Truth geddit? I’ll leave)**  
“Mate,” Ron’s voice jolted Ed from his thought spiral. “Aren’t you gonna eat something?” Ed looked down at the table, and his eyes widened, but then relaxed as he quickly worked out the science of the transmutation that must’ve occured in his head. He’d never seen this much food before. And Ron was right. He was a little hungry.  
Edward was just getting to his seventh piece of fried chicken when a pair of tall, identical redheads- god what was it with this place and redheads?- approached him and Ron.  
“Well, would you look at that,” started the one on the left.  
“Looks like our little Ronnie the prefect has found a first year!” finished the one on the right. Edward’s hand tightened around his fork.  
“WHO ZHE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL ‘E HASN’T GROWN SINCE ‘E VAS ELEVEN?!” The twins both laughed. Luckily, the crowded hall was too noisy for his outburst to attract much attention.  
“He’s a fifth year exchange student from Germany. Edward Elric,” said Ron, his face the color of a cherry.  
“Edward huh?,” said one of the twins.  
“More like EdVard,” said the other with an awful attempt at an Amestrian accent that Ed found oddly funny. Hermione, who was keenly listening to the conversation glared at the twins who were cackling hysterically at their own joke.  
“At least introduce yourselves before you start with your demeaning humor,” she said with her usual amount of authority.  
“Oh no! Looks like the prefect’s gonna give us detention!” The twin smirked evilly. Hermione huffed loudly before returning to her meal.  
“I’m Fred Weasley,” started the other one, “and that’s George.” So they were related to Ron and Ginny. But something was off about the introduction. Ed smiled.  
“No, I don’t zhink you are. I zhink zhat’s Fred,” he said, pointing a gloved finger at the one who’d been introduced as ‘George’. “You’re George.”  
“Shit,” said George.  
“Not even Mom can do that,” finished Fred. Ed shrugged. He’d had enough fake names to know when someone was trying to trick him like that. But he obviously couldn’t say that. “Vell I’ve been told zhat I am very talented,” he said with his hand over his heart in an ‘at-your-service’ sort of gesture. Fred and George grinned at each other.  
“Nice meeting ya, Elric,” said George.  
“We’ll see you around,” said Fred.  
“In the meantime-”  
“Ronnie, you may wanna cover your ears for this part-” Ed didn’t think it was possible for Ron to turn any redder.  
“If you ever want to cut a class-”  
“Give us a call. We can help you-”  
“And the effects only last an hour!”  
“George!” exclaimed Hermione, “you will NOT be using your little… inventions to help students cut classes! And besides, Ed can’t afford to miss school; we have OWLS this year.”  
“Actually,” replied Edward, his smile growing, “I don’t have to take zhe exams for zhis school. Ve do it differently in Germany.” He really wanted to see this “inventions' ' Hermione and the twins were talking about. Maybe it would be some practical scientific alchemy for a change.  
By the end of the meal, Ed had been able to shake most of the tremors out of his hand. He settled on avoiding looking at the…’ghosts’ until he could research them more. There had to be some kind of explanation. His brain was just foggy from lack of sleep, and all the noise, right?  
“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast,” came a booming voice that Edward realized with a start was Dumbledore, “First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students. And,” he added, looking directly where Ed was sitting with his new acquaintances, “a few of our older students ought to know by now too.” At first, Ed thought the last part was probably directed at him, but Harry, Ron and Hermione’s sheepish glances at each other suggested otherwise. “Mr. Filch, the caretaker” continued Dumbledore, “has asked me for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door. We have three changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons this year; we are also delighted to introduce a new subject called Alchemy to the curriculum which will be available to all third through seventh years. This will be taught by Professor Mustang.” For the first time all evening, Edward looked at Roy. Bastard still hadn’t taken off his trademark black coat over his fancy shirt and tie. He was doing that smug ass smile and waving his hand slightly, appearing to scan the crowd full of excited whispers (and a practically squealing Hermione). This time, Ed knew he really did have to hide the blush. He vowed to never let Roy live down the ‘Professor Mustang’ thing as payback.  
“Professor Umbridge will be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Dumbledore was saying, gesturing grandly towards a pink toad that, upon further examination, actually might have been a woman. Harry’s eyes widened.  
“She was at my hearing,” he said in an urgent whisper. “She works for Fudge!” If Ed remembered correctly, Fudge was this country’s president. Hermione’s expression turned dark as she looked the toad up and down, brushing a few strands of bushy hair behind her ears. That’s when the pink woman stood up, clearing her throat loudly right in the middle of Dumbledore’s speech. The looks of unmasked judgement around the hall told Ed that interrupting the headmaster wasn’t something that was done at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore hid his surprise very well- too well for any honest person in Ed’s opinion- and stepped back politely to let the new teacher speak.  
“Thank you, headmaster, for those kind words of welcome.” Her voice was girlish and patronizing. “Well it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces smiling back at me!” Yeah, no one was smiling. Even blind ass Mustang could’ve told her that much. Addressing a school of teenagers as if they were five years old wasn’t gonna get a good reaction.  
“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll all be very good friends.”  
Nope. Edward resorted to hiding his face in his hands (which was made marginally less comfortable by the automail) in order to conceal his laughter. What a fucking bitch.  
Umbridge’s ‘I’m-horny-for-the-ministry’ speech lasted a good ten minutes, and she didn’t seem to notice that literally no one, except maybe Hermione, was listening as the chatter picked up again. After Ed felt sure that he could restrain himself from attacking the toad, he let his eyes wander furtively over to Roy again at the teacher’s table. He looked outwardly amused, but Ed could tell that he was still listening to the speech and picking up on the same (poorly hidden) red flags as Ed was. He would need to talk to him after the feast. And maybe do some other stuff too.  
“Let us move forward then,” Ed hoped the speech would wrap up soon, “to a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.” She finally sat down, receiving a total of seven claps, most of which from teachers.  
“That was certainly illuminating,” Hermione said as Dumbledore made his closing remarks. Edward agreed. Glaringly so.  
“You’re not telling me you enjoyed it.” Ron apparently hadn’t picked up on the meaning of Umbridge’s words.  
“I said illuminating, not enjoyable.”  
“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Ed, “Your ministry’s got zhat bitch wrapped around it’s little finger! You say zhe minister’s got somezhing against Harry and Dumbledore? Vell, zhat’s vhy she’s here! To keep zhem under zhe government’s control!” Harry and Ron looked at him blankly.  
“What he’s saying, and I agree,” said Hermione, “is that the ministry’s interfering at Hogwarts.” Harry and Ron looked enraged, and rightly so.  
“Yes,” confirmed Ed, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need zhe bathroom.” He stood up and walked as nonchalantly as he could in the direction of the teacher’s table, ignoring Harry’s shouts that he was going the wrong way. He picked a moment of crowded confusion to grab Roy’s arm.  
 _“Is that you, Fullmetal?”_ Roy asked in Amestrian in case it wasn’t.  
 _“Yeah dumbass, now c’mon we need to talk.”_  
 _“I agree. Would you be so kind as to direct us to a somewhat private location?”_  
 _“Yeah just a sec”_ The hall was still chaotic enough for Edward and Roy to slip away without being noticed, but Ed was still careful to make sure that no one would be able to tell that he was leading.  
About halfway down the hallway off to the right, the pair slipped into an empty broom closet. Ed transmuted the ground to block the door as an extra precaution. Mustang raised an eyebrow.  
 _“Are we alone?”_  
 _“Yeah, but we still have to be kind of quiet. Someone could hear us in here.”_  
 _“I do rather enjoy the art of trying to keep you quiet.”_ Roy’s grin was insufferable.  
 _“Get your mind outta there, bastard. We need to talk about what we’re gonna do about that bitch ass toad woman._ ” Mustang’s blank eyes flitted back and forth like they always did when he was thinking.  
 _“Presuming you’re talking about Professor Umbridge, I really couldn’t care less about what you did about that- what did you call her?- ah, ‘toad woman’. As long as it can’t be traced back to you or that Potter boy you’re protecting,”_  
he said matter-of-factly. _“And as long as you can refrain from physically injuring her,”_ he added quickly, shooting a glare at Ed’s cheekbone. _“That would be a shitload of paperwork for me and an expulsion for you._  
 _It’s her ministry that I’m concerned with. We agree that she is being used as a tool to keep Potter and Dumbledore under control and spread propaganda, yes?”_ Ed nodded. Then felt really stupid and added:  
 _“I’m nodding.”_  
Roy smirked, knowing exactly the mistake Edward had made. He kindly avoided making any kind of sarcastic remark and continued.  
 _“Her goal will be to gain more and more authority and control over the school until the much smarter and more tactful ministry can take over, effectively silencing any voice of dissent. Your orders are to protect Harry Potter. Mine are simply to teach and attempt to run a long distance presidential campaign. We have no obligation to the ministry or to its puppets.”_  
 _“Your long distance presidential campaign is gonna kick Hakuro’s ass._ ” Roy smiled in Ed’s direction.  
“ _Speaking of asses…”_  
 _“Roy, no I have to get to the dormitories before someone comes looking for me. I’m supposed to be a student, remember?”_  
 _“Mm”_ Roy’s hands reached up for Ed’s face, and once they were resting on either side, he kissed him with impressive accuracy. There was that familiar-by-now warm, fuzzy feeling in Ed’s stomach as he reciprocated enthusiastically for a few seconds before reluctantly pulling away.  
 _“Let’s go before I take off your clothes, asshole,_ ” said Ed through gritted teeth. Roy held out his right arm and gave him that dumb boyish smile that he liked a lot more than he’d be willing to admit.  
 _“Lead the way.”_  
 _“Not a chance. Where’s your cane, General Matchstick?”_ Roy glared at- well towards him. Edward laughed.  
 _“You didn’t bring it!? Hawkeye’s gonna have your ass,”_ he teased.  
 _“Of course I brought it, you little twerp-”_  
 _“Don’t. Call. Me. Little.”_  
Roy performed a hugely exaggerated eye roll, and flicked his left wrist, unfolding the cane which he tapped on the ground a few times experimentally. “ _You’ve forgotten that I still don’t have the faintest idea of where we are. I seem to recall that you were the one that so rudely dragged me in here without telling me where we were going._ ” He smiled faux-sweetly and held out his arm again.  
“ _Fine,_ ” Ed relented, just wanting to go to sleep as fast as possible, _“but if we get caught, I’m one hundred percent blaming you.”  
“Lovely.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarifying that Amestrians address Ed as ‘Eduard’ when they’re speaking English because that’s how they would pronounce it, but since it’s an Amestrian word, they’ll say ‘Edward’ when it’s an italic Amestrian translation. And all the English speakers will say ‘Edward’ as well.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The lights were on in the Black mansion, casting foreboding shadows across the floor. Cobwebs covered the corners of every room. The elaborately designed carpets were covered in dust. The portraits screamed. The house elf screamed. That was the effect this house tended to have on those inhabiting it. Years and years of dark magic had resided here, and there are things that linger despite the passage of time. To their credit, the humans in the mansion were making an extraordinary effort to keep themselves calm and collected.   
Though all of them had been stuck here for most of the summer, the tension in the room during the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was barely detectable. If you looked closely, however, you would find it in Molly Weasley’s deep worry lines, Nymphadora Tonks’ dull hair, or the way Remus and Sirius’ knuckles were white from clinging tightly to each other's hands. Or the way everyone jumped when they heard the door open even though they knew it was only Dumbledore, back from the first day of school.  
“Greetings,” said the old man as he entered the dining room where the thirty-odd order members were seated.   
“Albus!” Mrs. Weasley shot up from her chair, hair frazzled and face red. “We saved dinner for you! Would you like me to heat it up for you right now?” She was already in the kitchen before anyone could point out that Dumbledore had just gotten back from an enormous feast in the great hall.   
“That’s quite alright, Mrs. Weasley,” Dumbledore said politely, though Molly wasn’t listening. He addressed the rest of the Order. “I’m afraid I don’t have the luxury of extended conversation here tonight, so if you don’t mind I’ll get right to the point.” Some of the order members nodded.  
“I believe I have just found two alchemists perfectly suited for the Order.”  
“Alchemists?!” Tonks’ shocked expression was shared by the rest of the group. “You mean muggles?!”  
“Not in this case, Ms. Tonks.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled in the dim lighting. “They are both wizards, although magic is not practiced where they come from.”  
“Well where the hell do they come from?” Moody finally spoke up.  
“I’m afraid that’s confidential, Alastor.” Moody grunted in displeasure, and said something about veritaserum under his breath.  
“All you need to know, unless they decide to tell you more,” Dumbledore continued, “Is that they are both highly accomplished in the science of alchemy. It has earned them high honors in their country where they go by the names ‘Flame’ and ‘Fullmetal’.”  
“What kinda names are those?” Demanded Moody.  
“That’s rich coming from a guy called ‘Mad-Eye’,” Tonks shot back. The buried tension was rising again and everyone could feel it.  
“I believe it’s ‘Plamya’ and ‘Acierre’ in their tongue,” stared Dumbledore, matter-of-factory.  
“And what language would that be Albus?” Asked Mad-Eye, gruffly. Sirius shot him a death glare.  
“We need this,” he muttered quietly. “We need as many people as we can get our hands on. That’ll be the only way we stand a chance.”  
“I agree,” said Lupin, squeezing Sirius’ hand a little. “For now, it doesn’t matter who they are or where they come from. If Dumbledore trusts them, so do I.” Everyone but Moody mumbled in agreement. With that, Dumbledore made his way to the door.  
“I’m glad we are in agreement,” he said. Then he winked at no one in particular. “I will plan to converse with them tomorrow morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I have too much fun with this? Yes. Am I still going to use it here even though it feels out of place? Absolutely.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 _“Wanna play?” asked Nina, her eyes- or the dog’s eyes looked up pleadingly.  
“Why couldn’t you save me?” the twisted mass of black bones shifted against the floor.  
“I never wanted to sacrifice myself,” Hohenheim cried, but the gate was already closing.  
“You said the stone would work.” Roy couldn’t meet his eyes.  
“It’s your fault I lost my body.” Those words sent a spear through his gut._  
“Ed, wake up,” the boy standing above Edward looked worried. It took him a second to remember that this was the Ron Weasley kid he’d met yesterday. “It’s almost time for breakfast- hold on,” Ron’s eyes flicked down “You always wear gloves to sleep, mate?”  
“Yeah it’s uh...customary in my country,” Ed replied halfheartedly, still trying to shake the images out of his head. Ron gave him a weird look.  
“Right. Well I gotta go talk to Seamus. He’s being a real asshole. See you at breakfast?”  
“Yeah.” Ed climbed out of the abundant blankets which were surprisingly comfortable for a school, and made his way to the singular bathroom in the dormitory. He locked himself in before changing into his robes (which he still hated), using his left hand to pull his hair into a bun, and stopping to hastily pour oil over both his automail limbs until they stopped creaking. Winry was gonna kill him for that when he got home. Whatever.  
Breakfast was somehow just as extravagant as dinner had been the night before. Piles of pancakes, loaves of bread and baskets spilling with fruit crowded the tables. Ed wondered for the first time who it was that had time to make all this. His thoughts were interrupted as the sky above him unleashed a torrent of feathers, talons and screeching. He instinctively ducked under the table until it was over, wondering why no one else thought to protect themselves. Then it hit him. Owls. He’d read about the mail system in this country but he kind of thought it was a joke.  
“What are you still getting that for?” Harry’s voice came from above. Ed awkwardly climbed back up to his seat, ignoring the giggles from around the table. Harry didn’t seem to notice. “I'm not bothering,” he said irritably. “Load of rubbish.”  
“Vhat’s a load of rubbish?”  
“The Daily Prophet is pushing an agenda against Harry and Dumbledore,” said Hermione. “But I think it’s wise to always know what the enemy is saying.” Edward nodded in agreement, and Harry huffed indignantly.  
A woman dressed in a green dress with a matching green hat who Ed guessed to be about fifty or sixty was now moving down the table handing out paper schedules.  
“Look at today,” Ron moaned. “Alchemy, double potions, divination and double defense against the dark arts…”  
“At least we’ve got alchemy first,” said Harry. “That should at least be kind of interesting.” Edward still couldn’t believe he was being forced to be taught beginner’s alchemy by Roy Mustang of all people. And he had to pretend to be inept.  
“Yeah but still,” Ron countered, “Snape, Trelawny and that Umbridge woman all in one day. I wish Fred and George would hurry up with those skiving snackboxes already-”  
“Do my ears deceive me?” Fred slid into the seat next to Edward and they exchanged grins. For what it was worth, Ed really enjoyed the Weasley twins. And he really didn’t enjoy many people.  
“Hogwarts prefects surely don’t want to skive off lessons!” George feigned shock.  
“Look what we’ve got today,” Ron complained, shoving the schedule into Fred’s hands.  
“Damn, Ronnie. That’s gotta be the worst Monday I’ve ever seen. You know we’ve got some Nosebleed Nougat left over-” as Fred was cut off by Hermione’s loud protests, Dumbledore walked towards them casually.  
“Once you’re done eating, Mr. Elric,” he said quietly, ignoring Harry’s withering glare, “I wish to have a word with you in my office. As quickly as possible if you don’t mind. The password is ‘Fizzing Whizbees’.”  
Roy was already seated across from the old headmaster when Edward arrived at the office, his cane propped up against his chair just as if they were back in Central City.  
“Well look who finally decided to join us,” he said with a smirk. God there were so many blind jokes he could make right now, but he bit them back in fear of revealing too much to Dumbledore.  
“Sorry I’m late, Professors.” Ed’s voice just dripped with mock politeness. He couldn’t help it. Roy actually had to put his hand over his mouth to cover the smile. Dumbledore simply acted like Ed had been genuine.  
“No worries at all, Mr. Elric,” he said. “Now that you’re both here, there’s a… ah favour I would like to ask you.”  
“And what might that be?” Asked Roy, raising his eyebrows.  
“If you recall our conversation in Germany, I mentioned a dark wizard by the name of Voldemort who is currently rising to power.” They both nodded silently. Dumbledore had told them horrifying stories about the wizard that reminded Ed of Father in a way that made his stomach twist. Voldemort, Ed had decided, was the reason that humans shouldn’t be allowed such lawless power as magic. “There is an alliance, if you will, of witches and wizards fighting against Voldemort’s forces as we speak. But they desperately need help. They’re devastatingly outnumbered and outmatched, and I think with the two of you, we can change that.”  
Edward took a minute to process the meaning of Dumbledore’s request. Then, to Ed’s great surprise, Roy spoke.  
“I promised my country that I would continue to support those who can’t support themselves.” Ed noticed that he’d omitted the part about that being part of his campaign announcement. “I suppose,” Mustang concluded, “that this would be a good place to start.” His eyes landed questioningly on Ed’s nose.  
“Alright,” said Edward with the beginnings of an evil grin. “I could use some action, anyvay.”  
“Wonderful!” Dumbledore beamed grandly. “Then I think you both have an alchemy lesson to attend. I expect to see you both here after dinner tonight.” He winked. “And it would be wise for you two to keep your identities secret while you reside here at Hogwarts. The others only know you by the names Flame and Fullmetal.”  
“Zhat sounds so tacky in English. Don’t call me ‘Fullmetal’. It’s ‘Acierre’.”  
When Edward walked into first period Alchemy ten minutes later with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Roy was right where Ed had dropped him off: behind his desk with his hands folded under his chin as if he was still in Central City. Ed had to pinch himself in order to refrain from walking up to Mustang and giving the Bastard a kiss on the lips. Roy smirked very slightly as Ed crossed the room, and Ed knew that he was listening to his footsteps which he had an uncanny ability of picking out.  
“They’re uneven, Ed,” he would always say “and short.”  
Edward flinched at the memory and sat down next to Harry just as the bell rang.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Harry looked apologetically at Ron and Hermione as the Edward kid took the seat next to him. Why did it seem like he was following him? Maybe he was. It wouldn’t be the first time Harry Potter had been followed around or fawned over by adoring students, though this year most of the admiration seemed to be directed at the mysterious new alchemy professor. He couldn’t help but miss that feeling that the ministry had taken away from being admired by the general public- but to be fair, the new professor was incredibly attractive in that expensive looking suit that matched his raven-black hair….God, did he really just think that?  
Right on cue the professor held up one hand, effectively silencing the class. Hermione was practically jumping up and down in her seat, and Ron gave him the ‘help me’ look. Ed just glared down at his lap. With all the reading he seemed to do, Harry was kind of surprised to see his lack of appreciation for school, as understandable as it was.   
“Alright, whoever isn’t here yet is late, and I don’t make a habit of waiting for late people. My name is Professor Mustang,” said the professor with a smile. His voice was deep and almost cocky but he ignored the whispers and giggles sounding around the classroom. “I’ll be teaching alchemy this year.” Hermione’s hand shot up, but was met with no response. “I’m sorry to say that everything you’ve been taught of this subject is almost definitely a lie. The first thing you need to know is that alchemy is not a form of magic. Alchemy is a science, which I understand most of you have little to no background in.” Malfoy scoffed loudly, and Professor Mustang raised an eyebrow and glanced in his direction. “If you for whatever reason, feel as though you are above learning science, you may leave my classroom now.” There was some shuffling from the Slytherins but no one stood up. “Very well,” continued Mustang. “Just know that I don’t expect all of you to remain enrolled in this class. Alchemy is a grueling and dangerous subject, but when used correctly, it can be very powerful. However, it differs from magic in that it follows the laws of equivalent exchange” With that, the professor clapped his hands together and pressed one against the wall next to his desk. The class gazed in awe as the wall erupted in blue light and an elaborately decorated and very sharp sword seemed to sprout from the room itself.“You can not create without first giving up something of equal value, whether that be the present ingredients of your creation or something a little more…costly.”  
Harry turned to Ed.  
“Did you see that?!” He whispered.  
“Yup”  
“Ed, he isn’t using a wand. Or any spells! That’s supposed to be impossible! You can’t do magic witho-”  
“Not magic,” Ed grinned. “Alchemy is a science, remember?”  
“Shit,” said Harry. “If I knew muggle science could do that maybe I would’ve stuck with it.” Ed’s expression changed from boredom to one that looked almost triumphant.   
Hermione’s face was bright red; she tended to hold her breath when she raised her hand. Ron was just staring at the newly created sword. Malfoy was stupidly clapping his hands against his desk to no avail.   
“Now of course,” said the professor, carefully setting the sword down on his desk, “you won’t be doing any actual alchemy until I’m confident that you won’t injure yourselves in the process. The laws of alchemy are absolute, and disobeying them can be catastrophic. So how many of you are familiar with the periodic table of elements?”   
“I am,” said Edward, and Hermione along with a few Slytherins raised their hands. Harry and Ron exchanged a confused look. Mustang quietly laughed to himself.  
“I suppose I should clarify,” the professor said, “hand-raising won’t be especially effective in this class. Just try and be polite about shouting out your answers.” Hermione looked absolutely scandalized.  
“Why, sir?” she blurted out. Now Edward was the one that looked scandalized- Harry supposed that he hadn’t seen the more nosey side of her yet. Mustang only smirked in a way that really reminded him of Draco Malfoy, and waved his hand in front of his eyes which were such a dark shade of brown that Harry was only now noticing the lack of pupils.   
“Can’t see,” he said casually. “Any more questions?” Hermione mouthed a silent ‘oh’ and Ron’s jaw dropped. Several students (including Malfoy) piped in with their questions at once, but the professor cut them off.  
“Sorry. Any other questions that aren’t related to my disability?” Everyone went silent. “Excellent,” said Mustang, still grinning. “Your homework is to internalize the periodic table. There will be a test next class. And Mr. Elric?” Everyone turned to face Edward who almost looked flushed.  
“Yes...sir?”  
“See me after dinner. Your remedial courses begin tonight.”  
Now Edward was definitely flushed. He looked almost as angry as he had on the train when Ron asked him how he’d learned to transfigure himself into an ant.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

‘In der ursprünglichsten Mir otvet nichto. My okhotnichya, my boremsya, my vyzhivayem. I v techenie sta let etot pervobitniy mir byl miromin der dieses Land lebte. No otvet, ya dumayu, zaklyuchaetsya v tom, die antwort sehe ich- no goddamnit that sounds condescending. ‘chto my v dolgu pered chelovechestva?’. No it would probably be best to leave himself out of it entirely. Roy sighed as he scratched out a somewhat random portion of the paper. He set the pen down and put his face in his hands. Hawkeye was gonna have fun interpreting this one with all the little side notes and scribbled out passages. Of all the documents he’d written in the past month since the start of the campaign (collectively called the ‘Dokumentierens Von Revolyutsiya’ or the Renaissance Documents), this one was probably both the most radical and the least organized. Perhaps it would be best to simply leave it out. No, Hawkeye and Olivier would both kill him for that. Roy felt around for the pen he now kind of regretted putting down. He had a headache. He’d had forty eight hours to digest all this magic crap and for his effort, all he’d gotten was an extremely substantial migraine. It almost seemed like after he’d lost his sight, God or Truth or whatever that thing was took pleasure in throwing him into increasingly outrageous situations where eyes would, for lack of a better word, be really fucking helpful. First the moving stairs that made it practically impossible for him to leave the classroom, then he had to learn how to use a magic wand of all things, then the owls raining down from the heavens then the ghosts and the teleportation and countless other things. And it had only been two days. He attempted to steady his breath and continue writing. He owed this to Amestris- to Ishval more importantly. Madame Chrismus taught him to clean up his messes and Roy definitely considered the massacre of thousands of innocent citizens- whose faces occupied his dreams every single night- to be a mess, to say the very least. A mess that spanned so many lives that it would probably prove impossible to ‘clean up’ as it were, but at least this was a start. A step in the right direction no matter how infinitesimally small. God, now the faces were in his head again. He ran his fingers over the parchment in order to resume with the document- this pain was nothing compared to what he’d caused- but he was shaken abruptly out of his spiraling thoughts as an explosion shook the empty classroom. ‘No, not an explosion,’ he reminded himself, catching his breath and regaining his faint, amused smile. Just the door rebounding off the wall.  
 _“Furniture, Edward. That door you’ve demolished was mahogany.”_ A familiar cadence of mismatched footsteps made their way towards his desk.  
 _“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, asshole. And fast ‘cause we’re gonna be late for Dumbledore”_ So it was Edward. Had dinner already passed? Roy knew his sense of time wasn’t quite what it used to be, but he could’ve sworn his last class had only ended five minutes ago.  
“Vhy remedial courses?!” Ed had switched to English, probably unconsciously. Roy didn’t mind. Ed’s accent was incredibly cute. “Did you vant zhese kids to zhink zhat I’m inept?!” The voice was now only a few feet away, so he braced himself on his desk and stood up, aiming his useless eyes toward the space in the undifferentiated darkness where Ed ought to be.  
“To the contrary, Eduard, my intention was to create a viable excuse for you to be in my office as frequently as possible without arousing suspicion.”  
“Hmph.” He was definitely blushing. Roy raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and made a truly valiant attempt at keeping the childlike giddiness out of his expression. “Vhatever. I ‘ad zhat supid- blyad’ gesicht- uh, ‘fuckface’ Umbridge today. Zhe Potter kid got himself detention. And,” there was a touch of pride in his voice now, “I stayed out of it.”  
“Shcheisse, Ed,” he said, caught entirely off guard.  
“Vell Potter is even vorse vith teachers zhan me. Fucking vendetta against zhe potions one ‘e can’t even-” The rest of the sentence was cut off with Roy’s kiss. He’d been waiting to do that all day.  
 _“Mmmph. Roy no, don't stop._ ” Roy grinned at the darkness, pulling away.  
 _“You said it yourself, Eduard. We’ll be late for Professor Dumbledore. Now are you in your military uniform?”_  
 _“Yes.”_  
 _“I know you’re rolling your eyes.”_  
 _“Am not.”_  
Five minutes later, the pair was making their way along the vast, empty corridors, Edward tugging on the sleeve of Roy’s black coat which was pulled over his uniform, the hood mostly concealing his face. He knew Ed had done something similar with his trademark red coat. They would have to keep their identities a secret outside of Hogwarts, lest they become instant targets for Voldemort’s supporters. That would put not only the students but Roy’s team in Amestris at risk. No, the only thing either the Order or the Death Eaters would know was that they were state alchemists in the Amestrian military, here in the business of international relations and that they went by the names Acierre and Plamya. Or Fullmetal and Flame.  
“Welcome, alchemists,” Dumbledore said once they had entered his office, “I wish to thank you again for providing much needed assistance to the Order. Tonight, we have the location of several known Death Eaters and our goal will be to apprehend them by morning. But first,” Roy could hear the old man’s smile, and- was that a bird? “The both of you must be acquainted with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. I think I would be correct in saying that they will all be excited to meet you, now if you’ll take my arm-” Shit. He hated when he had to guess where people were standing.  
“Are you gonna make us do zhat vierd molecule teleportation zhing again?”  
“I’m afraid that will be the only way of reaching our intended destination tonight.”  
Roy shot Ed a a warning look before he could protest. Instead he grumbled to himself in Amestrian (better left untranslated), and roughly grabbed Roy’s arm- he just had to use the automail didn’t he- and lifted it to meet Dumbledore’s. The world collapsed on itself for the second time in the past seventy two hours.  
Grace was always something Roy prided himself in, and he still liked to think he managed it notably well most of the time even without his sight, but his landing from what Roy could only assume was some sort of magic-compression-wormhole-tunnel was far from graceful. Standing up, and flattening out the wrinkles he suspected were in his uniform, he tried to take in his surroundings. They were outside; he could feel the warm September night air on his face. Assuming that the cobblestone he’d landed on was a sidewalk, the asphalt he’d felt next to it was probably a fairly wide street based on the distance between the rustling leaves on either side of it…. A tugging at the sleeve of his jacket pulled him from his careful analysis. He supposed he probably wouldn’t have gotten very much more information anyway. As much as he hated it, he would, once again, have to rely on Edward to be his eyes in this new place. Speaking of Edward, Roy turned his face downward to the source of the tugging and determined that, yes, that was Ed pulling on his coat. But not pulling him forward.  
 _“Holy fucking Truth, Plamya, help me zhe fuck up.”_ Well that did explain several things.  
 _“You know, I’d always assumed that the ability to stand up by oneself ought to be required of a highly revered state alchemist, but I suppose I could be mistaken.”_ He gave Ed one of his merciless smirks and duly accepted the slap across the face. At least Ed had used his left hand this time.  
And now he was being pulled forward. Edward’s voice came softly the way Hawkeye’s always did, and he spoke in Amestrian so that Dumbledore wouldn’t know what he was doing.  
“ _We’re not at Hogwarts anymore. I think it’s somewhere in London maybe? I don’t know. There are really tall buildings everywhere. Kinda looks like Central? Umm we’re crossing a street- no don’t worry, asshole there aren’t any cars. It’s probably 25ish steps across, and Truth sorry there aren’t any street lights I can’t see very well”  
“I can’t imagine how that must feel.”  
“Shut your trap. I’m tryna be helpful, you stupid sexy ass Matchstick- holy fucking shit.”_  
Roy nearly jumped as he heard an ear-rattling rumbling and felt the Earth shake around him. The source couldn’t have been more than 30 meters away.  
“Not to worry,” Dumbledore had been so quiet since their arrival that Roy had almost forgotten he was there. Almost. “The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is a very closely guarded secret. It must be completely concealed from the outside world.” Yeah no that wasn’t a good enough explanation. He turned in the direction of Ed.  
“ _Uh I don’t know how to explain this to you,”_ he whispered, clearly shaken, “ _but there were two huge houses and they just fucking moved over and a third one just fully appeared in the middle and- okay the old dude’s not waiting.”_  
Huh. That was certainly interesting.

Ed yanked on the Bastard’s sleeve. He grumbled obscenities under his breath in Amestrian being intentionally loud enough for Roy to hear every word as they walked through the black door and into the ancient looking brick building.  
“Welcome,” said Dumbledore, “To Number 12, Grimmauld Place.” The headmaster gestured politely towards the musty and yet somehow still incredibly fancy entranceway. Even Ed’s sense of style before he started dating Roy hadn’t been this bad. The wallpaper was dark green and lined with silver ornamental skulls. Gross. He didn’t have much time to think about it though because almost as soon as they entered the main house, they were met by about 10 people all talking at once.  
“It is my pleasure,” Dumbledore said grandly, “to introduce the Fullmetal and Flame alchemists.”  
“Acierre and Plamya,” Ed corrected instinctively. Roy elbowed him so slightly that no one else could’ve noticed. But the message was clear nonetheless. Be nice, Edward.  
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The way Roy always spoke was posh- almost kinda old fashioned. Ed could listen to it all day. Nope. Pay attention. “I’m known as Major General ‘Plamya’ or the Flame Alchemist if you prefer, and my subordinate here is Lieutenant Colonel ‘Acierre’ or Fullmetal,” Roy smiled widely behind the hood, holding out a hand, and Ed was reminded rather jarringly of how much of a social and political genius his boyfriend was as he watched the entire room fall under his charm. Well, everyone except that big psycho-y dude looking straight at Ed with... was that an automail eye?  
The pink haired mousey woman who couldn’t have been much older than Ed shook Roy’s hand  
“Tonks,” she said with a smile. And this is Remus Lupin, Molly Weasley (“hello dears”), Mundungus Fletcher, Mad- er Alastor Moody and Sirius Black. She looked like she was expecting a reaction from the last one, but Edward was still looking at Molly Weasley who he’d instantly recognized as the flustered redhead from the train station. He also didn’t comment that Roy, of course, still had no idea who was who (except for Molly Weasley) as there had been a lot of gesturing, pointing and silent hand waving. But Roy hadn’t mentioned anything about the fact that he was completely blind yet, so Ed figured he probably had his reasons.  
“You boy,” said the psycho with the automail eye-Moody? “You wanna tell us how you got those limbs?” It didn’t sound like a question. Mustang felt quizzically around Ed’s automail-still latched onto his sleeve- to find that it was still completely covered by his uniform, the black long sleeved shirt that he always wore under it, and his coat and gloves. Ed felt his blood run cold.  
“No, I don’t,” he snapped.  
“Hhmph” Moody limped towards Ed, towering over him and before Ed could move back without running the risk of injuring Roy, he flicked a previously concealed wand and Ed’s right sleeves and half of his left pant leg were ripped off, completely exposing the automail.  
“WHAT ZHE FUCK DO YOU ZHINK YOU’RE FUCKING DOING” Edward’s blood boiled. His vision went red, and he launched a punch- with the right arm- at the strange man’s ugly face only to have it stop in midair.  
“Acierre,” Roy warned, letting go of Ed’s arm. Shit. He’d forgotten that he still had that little parasite hanging onto him. Edward glared daggers at the man through his hood. No point in alchemizing his clothes back now. The entire Order was already gaping at his automail. That red headed lady, Molly Weasley was actually tearing up. Dumbledore only looked mildly surprised, and even though he masked it far better than Edward could, he could tell that Mustang was seething.  
“Yeah great, vhatever have a look it’s not like I care.” Ed’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “At least mine are better zhan his.” He pointed a finger at Moody. It was true. By the way he walked, Ed could tell instantly that one of his legs was automail. Shitty automail at that.  
“We’re sorry,” started the one who’d been introduced as Sirius Black, “it’s just...most wizards don’t have metal limbs. We can regrow them unless it’s dark magic.”  
“Zhat’s fine, Sirius,” he used the first name so that Roy would know who to associate with the voice. “But if zhat shitface comes near me again…” the obvious threat hung in the air.  
“Now that’s settled,” said Mustang calmly, “I would love to get started with tonight’s work.”  
“Sure, sure” God what was his name? Lupus? No, Lupin. Remus Lupin- which basically translated to Wolf McWolf in Amestrian. Great. Now that’s all Ed was gonna be able to think about when he saw him.  
As it turned out, the Order had managed to find the home where four of the cult members were taking refuge, which was impressive. What wasn’t impressive was their plan to dispose of them. No wonder Harry wanted to help. These guys were hopeless. Ed was about to say as much, but Roy interjected first. Probably for the best.  
“If the house is as guarded and loaded with traps as you say, might I suggest luring them outside?”  
“No. We have to be discreet!” That stupid Moody dude again.  
“Not if ve make it look like an accident,” Ed shrugged, catching onto Mustang’s idea. Moody looked like he was about to protest again, but the Wolf dude cut him off.  
“No, Alastor, I’m interested to hear this.”

Ed peered through the bushes in front of the townhouse. He’d have to admit that it would be a perfect hideout for active criminals- not suspicious enough to draw the attention of the government, but still right in the midst of potential victims.  
“ _Alright,”_ he nudged Mustang.  
 _“The house is at eleven o’clock. Range 13, and obviously throttle- probably like 90%?”_  
 _“That much?”  
“Yeah that much, Bastard, what do you think I actually need remedial alchemy?”_  
Roy sighed and held out his arm and Ed positioned it so that the spark would fly in through the kitchen window. It would be more than enough to set the decrepit house ablaze, and Lupin and Tonks had already charmed the property lines so that the muggles next door hopefully wouldn’t even notice. Ed made a mental note to look into how exactly that would be scientifically possible as Roy snapped his fingers, and a delicate trail of flame hit the window. Now that he thought about it, now that Mustang didn’t even need his gloves to do alchemy, this act didn’t really qualify as ‘scientifically possible’ either. But it was still an equivalent exchange. Roy had given up far more than what was fair for this ability. Magic didn’t work like that.  
Lupin, Tonks and Moody actually managed to pry their eyes away from Ed’s fully exposed automail (which was starting to get really uncomfortable) to watch in silent awe as the house’s kitchen lit up, and the fire crept lazily up to the second floor.  
“And you’re sure the Ministry won’t be able to track your magic, Plamya?” Lupin asked for the millionth time.  
“Quite sure as there is actually no magic involved at all,” Roy replied with far more patience than Ed could’ve managed. “Ah it appears our first little friend has come out to play.” He was right. It was a middle aged woman wearing a ridiculously fancy nightgown and an equally ridiculous expression- Charlotte Cooke if he remembered correctly. Three men about her age, and looking equally stupid were hurrying to join her. But that still didn’t explain-  
 _“How the fuck did you know that?”_  
“ _I saw them, Acierre. How do you think_?” Roy rolled his eyes which hadn’t moved from the ground, and tapped his ears. Great. Now the asshole’s started with the sarcasm. This was gonna be a long night.  
‘STUPIFY,” Lupin shouted from behind them, and a stream of red light erupted from his wand, downing one death eater but alerting the other three to their exact location.  
Edward stood up.  
“Alright. Let’s see long you idiots can hold up against me,” He raised his voice for added effect, and made sure that the moonlight was hitting his automail just right. He could practically feel Roy facepalming as he clapped his hands, thought of a circle, and plunged them into the ground. Blue light erupted from the lawn as one of the remaining death eaters was thrown backwards. It had a similar effect to swatting at a wasp, Ed noticed as the man stood and drew his wand.  
“Filthy little alchemist.”  
“Come over here and call me little again, you bitch.”  
The stunned death eater had regained consciousness, and occupied both Moody and Tonks. He was clearly the leader. Lupin and Charlotte Cooke we’re exchanging blasts, and Roy was holding off the other one with elegant arcs of flame that not only seemed to block spells fairly well, but caused his opponent to have to stop to cough up smoke frequently. Ed almost felt a twinge of pride watching Mustang use his alchemy like that. After all those months of training, he was so close to where he was before he lost his sight. In fact, Roy could’ve easily torched the idiot’s ass into a pile of ashes. But the Order wanted to question the death eaters- so they were at the disadvantage of not being able to kill. Not that Ed would have anyway. The death eaters on the other hand, seemed more than fucking happy to do so.  
The death eater currently taking up about half of Ed’s attention was no exception. Ed dodged blasts of green light he knew to be the killing curse from that 6th year defense textbook. Probably had some sort of arsenic or maybe even potassium but that still didn’t explain all the light. Whatever. He lept over another green blast and dodged one of Mustang’s flame attacks.  
“Vatch it asshole you almost fucking killed me.”  
“I think we both know that’s not true, Acierre.” Ed looked over at Roy who was definitely showing off, and a killing curse rebounded off his automail, knocking him off his feet. That’s it. He stood up, clapped his hands in front of him forming the coolest array he could think of and pressed them into the ground. His death eater was lifted gloriously into the air by two muddy arms full of intricate designs- mostly of skulls (okay maybe he still had a soft spot for those) and other awesome shit like that. The others were too zoned in to interrupt Ed’s dramatic walk to his opponent. He calmly transmuted a piece of stone from the yard into a long spike that came just close enough to the man’s neck. He smirked and transmuted another piece of dirt to lift himself over the heads of the sparring wizards. Roy, that little bastard, was holding off two of the remaining death eaters- one for each hand; with huge tongues of fire, and localized explosions that were bright enough for the death eaters to have to look away, but obviously had no effect on him. Tonks and Moody were wrangling the one Ed had just caught. Lupin was still fighting for his life. Ed directed his little dirt elevator towards Lupin and that Charlotte lady, jumped off, fell about ten feet and brought his metal fist down on the woman. It turned out that he’d obviously underestimated her because she laughed humorlessly and flicked her wand at Ed who instantly flew backwards. For a split second, Lupin glanced back towards him to make sure he was okay (of fucking course he was) and Ed felt his stomach drop. But no blast of green light came as he’d anticipated, only that familiar crack as that fucking coward ass bitch escaped.  
“FUCKING VIMP! COME FACE ME LIKE A FUCKING-”  
“Acierre.” Lupin cut him off in a really annoying responsible adult voice. “We need to go help the others.” Roy smiled and turned his head towards them, still shooting fire at the last two death eaters like a crazy motherfucker.  
“It would mean a lot,” he said sarcastically, punctuating the sentence with another snap. Stupid Bastard.  
“Shut zhe hell up, Plamya.” Ed ran over to stand next to him. “If you stop sparking, I’ll take zhe one on zhe right. And- HEY TONKS COULD YOU GET ZHIS GUY TAKEN CARE OF?” Moody’d be fine on his own, right? At least his opponent was already trapped- so what if he still apparently still had his wand? Roy held up his hands in mock surrender as Ed once again pushed his hands into the ground, thinking of the same array and Tonks shouted:  
“Petrificus Totalus!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit at the beginning (and also the names Acierre and Plamya) are in ‘Amestrian’ and it’s a document that will be referenced heavily. I will reveal the full document in English towards the end of the story (but shh I didn’t tell you that) Amestrian is basically just a jumble of German and Russian. I speak neither.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“Harry, look at this,” Hermione’s fingers snapped in Harry’s face, shaking him out of his sleep induced stupor. He’d been up with that stupid periodic table all night. She adjusted her bright purple SPEW beanie and gestured to an article in this morning’s newspaper. Part of him couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed that she was still reading the prophet.  
“Look, Hermione,” he really didn’t want to be having this conversation this morning. “I don’t care what the stupid ministry has to say about me.” The back of his hand was still prickling from last night’s detention.  
“This one’s not about you, mate.” Harry was surprised to see that Dean Thomas was peering over Hermione’s shoulder, looking mildly interested. He could tell that Edward was also listening in to the conversation from behind his stack of letters. Harry rolled his eyes, took the paper from Hermione, and began to read outloud.

MYSTERIOUS MISFIT MUGGLES WANTED BY MINISTRY OF MAGIC   
An interview with Ministry Official, Charlotte Cooke revealed that late last Monday night, a pair of muggle alchemists were spotted, sources say, ravaging the streets of London alongside the notorious terrorist Order of the Phoenix. These two alchemists were referred to as ‘Acierre’ and ‘Plamya’ by the Order, these names are direct Amestrian translations of ‘Fullmetal’ and ‘Flame’ giving reason to believe that they come from the desolate war zone of Amestris in the Middle East. The names seem fitting as well. Photo evidence shows that the ‘Flame’ alchemist produces fire by snapping his fingers at his unfortunate victims. Over a blue military uniform- revealing his high rank as Major General, the Flame Alchemist wears a black coat that conceals his face, but those who escaped his wrath last night describe him as a tall, asian man, whose face is full of deep hatred. His counterpart, according to witnesses, appears to be a small child although his menacing military uniform suggests a rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. And he can manipulate the very Earth by clapping his hands. He too conceals his face- with a distasteful crimson jacket which has a strange cult symbol emblazoned on the back. But perhaps the most unsettling features of this boy are his strange metal limbs- his left leg and entire right arm seem to be made from grotesque muggle machinery, which he leaves exposed as he wreaks havoc on innocent wizarding citizens. Sources predict that this ‘Fullmetal’ alchemist has been abused and brainwashed by his partner, the Flame Alchemist. Fortunately, there were no citizen deaths last night- only the kidnapping of three dark wizards known to be ex- supporters of the deceased You-Know-Who: Dennis Rose, Paul Randall, and Richard Chambers. 

Harry felt himself slowly begin to smile.  
“So what we’re saying here,” he said, “is that the Order’s got themselves a set of superheroes who took out three Death Eaters last night?” Hermione nodded slowly.   
“I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”  
“Blimey,” Ron’s voice came over Hermione’s shoulder. He was almost annoyingly perky today after being made Keeper. “That’s some crazy shit right there. I’m gonna go tell Fred and George! Wanna come, Ed?” Harry watched Edward glance up from his mail at the rainy enchanted sky above the great hall, and wince.  
“No zhat’s okay, Ron, but tell zhem to meet me tomorrow in zhe common room. I’ve gotta talk to zhem about zheir inventions.” Ed was obviously trying to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably. He almost looked like he was in pain. Ron shrugged and sauntered off and Hermione spoke up.  
“Are you alright, Edward? You don’t seem...yourself today.” Ed gave her a small smile.  
“Zhank you, Hermione, but yeah I’m okay. It’s an old injury zhat kind of gets vorse vhen it rains is all.”   
The moment breakfast was over, Ed cornered Harry in a shadowy corner of the great hall .  
“Vhat’s zhat on your hand?” he demanded. Crap. He didn’t think Ed would notice- let alone care after hearing what the rest of the school thought of him.  
“It’s nothing.” He slid his right hand behind his robes.  
“Bullshit. You’re a bad liar, Harry.” Harry moved to escape the increasingly uncomfortable conversation, but Ed’s left arm snapped out and caught Harry’s right. Ed looked at the writing with mild interest where Harry had expected shock.  
“Who did zhis?”  
“Umbridge.” There was obviously no point in being dishonest now.  
“Vell, vhat’re you going to do about it?! You can’t let yourself be pushed around like zhat all the time. Especially not now vith Voldemort back.” Edward’s golden eyes, fierce and unyielding, flashed into his own before limping off towards the library and Harry suddenly knew why all the Slytherins had stopped bothering Ed after the first day of school.’ God that kid’s weird,’ he thought as he trudged off to McGonagall’s class. Edward utterly refused to take part in transfiguration, never did homework, and yet he somehow received the best marks in almost all their classes much to Hermione’s dismay. Even Snape liked him. But Hermione trusted him- she’d explicitly told him as much- so he trusted him as well. At least for now.  
That sentiment was immediately dismissed that night after detention when Ron and Hermione confronted him about the writing on his hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MONTH LATER
> 
> Also Ed is referencing the (now completed) document from chapter eight at the beginning lol I’m now realizing that I didn’t make that clear at all

Chapter 10

 _“Shit, Roy. I mean...I can’t even tell you...the other ones are good but this is fucking amazing. I’m serious.”_ Edward stared at the single sheet of parchment in shock. He was sprawled across Mustang’s lap in his classroom’s desk chair, becoming increasingly grateful for these remedial alchemy courses though of course he’d never say that out loud. Roy ran a hand through his hair.  
 _“Really? I imagined it would be too… I don’t know… radical? There are people- Hakuro for instance- who won’t take it well. If it’s possible to be taken well.”_  
 _“That’s the fucking point though, Bastard. It’s not just about the election...it’s about…_ ” he spread his arms _“I don’t know, the bigger picture? Has Hawkeye read this? She knows more about this shit than I do.”_  
 _“I wanted to show you before I sent it, my love.”_  
 _“Ew don’t get sappy on me”_  
 _“I’m sorry, Edward.”_  
 _“No you’re not, asshole.”_  
 _“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_ Roy was massaging his back now, and Ed knew he could feel the goosebumps.  
 _“Uh-huh.”_ Ed smirked _“Did you_ see _that article in the paper today?_ ” Roy sighed at the admittedly terrible pun.  
 _“Very funny, Edward.”_ The Daily Prophet apparently didn’t come in braille, and Mustang definitely wasn’t gonna ask another teacher to read it out loud to him.  
“ _Hmph. ‘Said the ministry’s still going batshit over finding-_ ” he switched to his sarcastic government toad voice- “Zhe elusive terrorists, Acierre and Plamya.”  
 _“Well if I remember correctly, you did do quite a number on that bridge the other night.”_  
 _“Whatever. The point is that they made Umbridge a... Truth what was it... right ‘High Inquisitor’. So I checked some books and it seems like it’s a totally made up title-”_  
 _“Meaning the ministry can decide it means whatever they want it to,_ ” Roy finished. _“I’ll speak with Professor Dumbledore about it right now, and we can find a way of informing the rest of the Order tomorrow night.”_ He abruptly stood up, smirking as Ed toppled off his lap, landing ass first on the floor. Fucking. Bastard. Edward quickly and silently grabbed the cane from where it was leaning on the desk and held it to his chest, still seated on the ground. Roy’s fingers skimmed around the desk for a few seconds before he turned his face downwards and held out a hand.  
“ _What?_ ” Ed asked innocently, trying desperately not to laugh as Roy rolled his eyes.  
 _“Cane, Edward. Unless it has mysteriously vanished from this dimension, I know you’re trying to hide it from me, and I’m pretty sure that qualifies as insubordination.”_  
 _“I dunno where you get off making all these fucking accusations,”_ he said, grinning as he deposited the cane into Roy’s outstretched hand. Roy flicked his wrist almost imperceptibly, cane whacking Ed’s metal shin. Then he bent down and brushed his lips to Edward’s forehead, effectively shutting down whatever clever comeback Ed was about to shoot at him. Stupid Bastard thought of everything.  
“ _I could have you court martialed you know,”_ Roy said merrily as he walked confidently towards the door.  
“ _Bullshit!_ ” Ed called after him, still smiling.  
Apparently the ministry wasn’t planning on being at all subtle about its plans to overthrow Hogwarts. Edward and Hermione arrived in the alchemy classroom at 8:56am the next morning comparing charms notes and took their usual seats- Ed next to Harry (who seemed marginally happier after having his Quidditch privileges reinstated) and Ron next to Hermione a desk over. As the seats filled with what remained of the fifth year Gryffindor and Slytherin alchemy students, in walked the pink toad herself, her short, high-heeled footsteps obvious over the clamouring students. Roy rubbed his face with both hands, not even attempting to hide his annoyance at the High Inquisitor's presence. The bell rang.  
“Alright,” Roy grumbled, standing up from his desk. “Please get out your homework from last class- and no, Mr. Weasley, for the tenth time, I do not accept late work.” Ron, who’d only just opened his mouth, turned bright red and crossed his arms under Hermione’s glare. Ed pulled out the crumpled pieces of paper he’d half-assed a few circles and equations onto. At least they were finally starting to learn about arrays for simple materials.“Now who can explain to me the difference between, let’s say, an aluminum and a gallium array?”  
Edward opened his mouth, but Pansy Parkinson beat him to it. Harry laughed at his (entirely justified) indignant expression.  
“The aluminum array has thirteen outside tangents and the gallium has thirty-one!” Her explanation was over simplified at best.” Apparently it was enough for Roy though.  
“Thank you, Ms. Parkinson. Ten points to Slytherin. As aluminium and gallium are so similar, their arrays only differ slightly. However-”  
“Hem-hem”  
“However, you must remember to take into account their vastly separate melting temperatures-”  
“Hem-hem”  
“-that will cause gallium’s innermost circle to be little more than a pinpoint where aluminum’s will have a diameter of exactly a…”  
“Sixth of a centimeter,” Ed called out.  
“Correct, Mr. Elric-”  
“HEM HEM” Ed and Dean Thomas glanced at each other across their tables and had to struggle to keep from laughing. Umbridge glared at them.  
“I would thank you to refrain from interrupting my class, Professor Umbridge,” said Roy mildly. A few Slytherins exchanged nervous glances. They’d all seen what happened with Trelawney during her inspection last week.  
“Actually, Professor Mustang, I have been appointed by the minister of magic himself to conduct whatever kind of inquiry I see fit.”  
Roy smiled sweetly before addressing the class. He still hadn’t so much as turned in her direction.  
“Practice with the arrays I’ve taught you for the moment if you will. Feel free to talk amongst yourself as long as you can keep it at a reasonable volume, yes Mr. Malfoy? Mr. Zabini?” Both of them quieted instantly, and Edward was left in awe of how the Bastard had somehow managed to gain the respect of Draco Malfoy of all people. Kid was a spoiled brat.  
As the room filled with the drone of low conversation, Roy’s eyes landed in the region of Ed’s face and he just barely shook his head. What the hell was that about? If Mustang thought Ed was just gonna sit there and be quiet while Umbridge interrogated him, he was wrong.  
Roy put his hands in the pockets of his fancy ass dress pants and leaned back casually against his desk keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.  
“Well now that I’ve stopped my entire class for you, I suggest that you go ahead and get started with your inquiring so as to avoid unnecessarily wasting valuable time.” Ed stared down at his desk and absently scribbled arrays with his quill, still listening intently. Everyone else was too.  
“May I ask why there are only nine students in your class?”  
“Alchemy, as I stated at the beginning of the year, is a grueling subject. The students that dropped out did so of their own accord, and I respect their decision.” Damn he was good. Completely shut down her little wormhole of rehearsed questions designed to make him look bad in One. Fucking. Sentence. Ed could tell that Umbridge was more than a little taken aback at what Ed knew to be Roy’s political genius kicking in.  
“Very well, Professor Mustang. Though I must insist that you make eye contact with me while I’m speaking to you.” As much of a cheap shot as it was, Ed’s left hand tightened around the quill nearly snapping it in two. Roy finally turned to face her, eyes flitting involuntarily back and forth like always.  
“You must insist?” he repeated sarcastically.  
Harry gave Ed an apprehensive glance, saw the look on his face, and wisely returned to his classwork.  
“It is a matter of personal respect.” Umbridge sounded way too smug. It was taking every cell of Ed’s body to keep himself from launching himself at her right then and there.  
“If this were a matter of respect, you wouldn’t have insisted I do something which I think we are both very aware I am incapable of. ” Roy’s voice was still calm- almost amused. Ed could not begin to comprehend how he was still keeping his cool.  
Umbridge scribbled something down on her clipboard.  
“Well then I definitely feel the need to express my concern of your ability to teach a class if you can’t do something so simple.” She waved a hand in front of Roy’s blank eyes. Oh hell no.  
“GET YOUR HANDS ZHE FUCK OUT OF HIS FACE” he stood up, feeling the stares from around the room.  
“Mr. Elric,” Roy started, but Ed had already lost his patience.  
“YOU HAVE ZHE AUDACITY TO QUESTION HIS ABILITY TO TEACH? ZHAT’S FUCKING IRONIC COMING FROM A LITTLE WHORE ASS BITCH LIKE YOU-“  
“Eduard.” Roy was shaking his head again.  
“Detention Mr. Elric! For utter lack of respect for your teachers,” Umbridge squeaked. Ed sat back down, both middle fingers raised as Harry looked at him in shock.  
“She’s gonna make you do what she did to me,” he whispered urgently. Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement. Whatever. It was worth it.  
“You absolutley may not sit down Mr. Elric!” Ed could’ve taught Umbridge a lesson right then and there but Roy was already doing his ‘shut up before you get us all in more trouble’ face. He stood up and shot her his sweetest and most obviously fake smile. “You will take this directly to Professor McGonagall.” Umbridge scribbled something down on a piece of pink parchment, folded it neatly into an envelope and handed it to Edward. No one spoke as he marched out, slamming the door behind him.  
“Mr. Elric! I must say I wasn’t expecting you to make another appearence in my office,” said McGonagall from behind her desk when Edward walked in. If Harry, Ron and Hermione weren’t going to talk to the other teachers about Umbridge, he definitely was.  
“Yeah well I’m not really here ‘cause I want to be. No offense.” He held out the pink envelope which the professor took. Her eyes narrowed as she read.  
“As I’m sure you’re aware, Mr. Elric, screaming and swearing at teachers is not tolerated at Hogwarts. Professor Umbridge can and should give you detention for such childlike behavior.” Holy shit this woman was almost as scary as Riza Hawkeye with that look. She gestured to the chair on the other side of her desk. “Sit down Mr. Elric.” He sat. “I’ve noticed that she didn’t include a reason for your outburst and I think there may be a reason for that. But for the love of God, if this had anything to do with a height related comment you’ll be serving detention with me as well.” Ed’s hands tightened on the armrests of his chair at her reference to height. He knew he couldn’t say anything remotely close to the truth (haha Truth l’m sorry)  
without revealing too much. Of course, he’d already revealed too much to Umbridge and all his classmates- but there was a pretty good chance that they hadn’t really figured anything out. McGonagall would.  
“Mr. Elric, I know this has to do with General Mustang so you might as well tell me.”  
“Who told you he was a General?”  
“Professor Dumbledore explained your situation to me when you arrived. I am the Deputy Headmistress after all.” She watched his uncharacteristically quiet features carefully. “And I know that you are rather...close with him.” Ed’s mouth dropped and McGonagall rolled her eyes. “Mr. Elric-” she called.  
But he was already out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but Ed can pronounce the English ‘w’ sound now? And I decided that Mustang already spoke perfect English upon arrival because he’s just cool like that and so it wouldn’t be a dead giveaway to everyone at hogwarts that they’re connected.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m posting the first ten chapters at once lol


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